Just One Night
by yuyuyashasrain
Summary: Sarah has been in love with Alex Nunez since freshman year. Now a junior, she gets the chance to spend just one night with the object of her desire. What will happen? Not porn, just fluff. Palex, implied AlexXOC


I don't know how my attraction to her came about, but it was clear to me that it wasn't about to go away. I sort of watched her from a distance, never realizing how much time she seemed to spend on my mind until that night. I had fallen asleep around three, as per my usual bedtime after my midnight stress relief sessions and lying awake for hours contemplating the mysteries of my subconscious and why I was so intolerable to myself, and I had the most wonderful dream. In it, I was eating of cheesecake on a picnic at night in the empty city park. I took the first bite, then reached over and fed the next one to a person beside me. A minute later, after studying this person intently, I realized she was none over than Alex. I thought this was rather strange; usually when I had this dream it was about some sexy calendar girl on my to-do list, never anyone of particular importance to me. Alex caught me off guard.

Until then she was just an attractive acquaintance, someone who had been continuously pushed to the back of my mind by other, more bosom-blessed women, and who until then had constantly slipped to the front without my notice. Now I knew she was there, and in retrospect, I guess I always had; I just never acknowledged her presence. Even then our friendship went smoothly, my love for her flying respectfully under the radar for years, until Little Miss Loudmouth found out and let it slip... I hate her when she's drunk...

_I guess it's not that bad,_ I thought. _I still get to watch her in class... unless she's transferred since she found out about my little crush on her. God, I can't believe Ellie told. I know she she didn't mean to. Still..._

I sighed mournfully, watching the raindrops beat down on the cold glass of the window. They splattered against it, failing in their attempts to get inside and followed the nearest paths of the raindrops before them, slowly trickling down to cold cement below. Through the rain I saw the world outside, tinted blue and grey, uniting earth and sky with their lifegiving deaths. In the rain the white houses stood tall and would shine when the clouds abandoned this part of the world. The grass sparkled now and bent under the slightest pressure, but never broke. I wondered which was stronger.

The rain would've been a lot more enjoyable on any other day, but as it was Sunday, I was perfectly miserable. Sundays were terrible. I wasn't forced to attend church, but the prospect of school morning always made me cringe. Even without school, Sunday was still the worst day of the week. I was always tired, no matter what, and there was nothing on TV. Sundays just make me sad.

This particular Sunday made me scared, however, when I heard a car screech to a halt and looked down the street, only to see Alex Nunez being shoved out of the passenger's door. She landed hard on her side, catching herself on her right elbow, and at the moment I didn't care how I knew that pain so well; all that mattered was that Alex felt it too and I needed to help her.

I grabbed my umbrella and hurried outside, running as fast as I could get to her. By the time I'd arrived she was was on her feet, preparing to walk away. I held the umbrella over her, causing her to look my way. She sighed, her eyes downcast once more, and I searched for the right moment, the one in which she would realize how badly she needed to get off the streets and feel secure enough to spend the night with me, regardless of my feelings for her. Catching sight of it, I seized the opportunity to trap her gaze and let her see the love I vowed never to show anyone except the one person who deserved it. This seemed to persuade her more to let herself lean on someone else for a change, and the more she considered it the more tempting it seemed to become; but it wasn't working right away. I watched quietly while she weighed her options, and I quietly put in an assurance that no one would know. She looked at my house, then the direction the car went, then back to the ground. After debating for a long moment, her eyes finally came back to me in resolve and she silently agreed. I smiled ever so slightly and started walking back to my house, making sure Alex stayed under the umbrella the whole time.

"Is anybody there?" she asked as we approached the neighboring house.

"No," I replied, "it's just me until 6:00 tomorrow morning. My mom's at work."

This was followed only by the sound of the latch turning as I led Alex inside. She stopped in the doorway, not wanting to track footprints in the living room she was currently observing, and hugged herself, possibly trying to hide her erect nipples. This must have been hard for her with, to all appearances, a fractured elbow, but I politely ignored her predicament for the sake of her pride. I did notice, however, that she was bleeding from the point of impact and looked like she was trying hard not to cry. The sight of my lovely in such a bad way made me want to lock my arms around her and let her cry on my shoulder, but I knew she'd never let that happen. I felt horrible knowing that all I could do was say, "I'll be right back," and run to get her a towel and some dry clothes. I showed her the bathroom and welcomed her to the shower, and while she was there I prepared two hot cocoas with marshmallows and whipped cream. I set them on the coffee table so they might cool off a bit and it struck me that I had no idea what I did with the medical supplies I used to need on a daily basis. I hadn't cut in so long I had actually forgotten where I last had them. With this knowledge secured, I began to search the house as well as my memory.

_Now, what did I do with those bandages? _I pondered. _Did I use them all? No... it hasn't been bad enough for a while... I know, I left them in my end table drawer._

I ran upstairs to my bedroom, retrieved the bandages, and returned to the living room where I found Alex, damp-haired and towel-necked, emerging from the bathroom donning my plain black shirt, my blue jeans, and a toilet-paper bandage. I smiled shyly, holding up the real bandages, and she smiled as well and took a seat next to me on the couch.

_Everything is as it should be,_ I found myself thinking as I nursed the wound of the one I loved. _She's away from her house and letting me take care of her. I want this night to last forever._

After I was done with that I told her to wait there while I got something for her. I went into the bathroom, retrieved a hair brush, and returned to find Alex sitting patiently on the couch, examining the fraying cuffs on my jeans. I noticed that she hadn't even touched her cocoa. I guess I got my wish about it cooling down, then.

"One of those is yours, you know," I told her, and she looked behind the couch to see me standing by the staircase.

She shyly took one mug without a word and, realizing she was considerably calmer, I stood behind her and started brushing her hair. She halfway turned her head to look up at me, confused.

"If it doesn't get brushed, it'll get tangled," I offered as an explanation. "And you're busy, so I have to do it." Alex grinned, shaking her head, and went back to her cocoa, giving me permission to continue grooming her.

Once again, I waited for the right moment to show itself in her very aura before bothering her about this. I knew she didn't want to discuss it, or even think about it, but I also knew she had to, or else she would lock it away with the rest of her problems and probably end up snapping. It was also true that if I asked at the wrong time, she would close herself off from me and probably never be my friend again. Therefore, I had to wait for just the right auric vibration from her to start asking questions.

_Wait for it... wait for it... now._

"So... I know this is probably none of my business, but... what happened?"

Alex was quiet for a moment, possibly searching for her voice in the thick fog of emotion, and eventually she came out with this:

"Chad isn't the most stable person in the world. Sometimes, when he gets mad at my mom, I try to defend her and he just gets so extreme. I've tried ignoring it, but... I dunno, he really pissed me off today."

I hopped over the back off the couch and grabbed my cocoa mug, having finished brushing her hair, and sat sideways to face, a concerned look on my face. "What did he say?" I asked, taking a sip.

"Oh, he... called her a lazy good-for-nothing bitch 'cause he didn't feel like driving to the hospital, where she's recovering from a coma he put her in."

"Why'd he do that?"

"They got in a fight about Chad spending all the rent money on some really bad crack and a shit load of beer." Alex sighed, running a stressful hand through her hair. "All she did was yell like normal, but this time he went insane. He ripped the phone off the wall and hit her over the head with it. He said he just wanted her to shut up."

"Hmm... maybe he was feeling guilty," I suggested, after considering this for a long moment, and Alex raised a skeptical eyebrow.

_Oh, Goddess, that is so hott..._

"Guilty? Chad?"

Alex's words brought me out of a short, yet memorable fantasy involving her naked under a clear night sky, lying on a red satin sheet with candlelight dancing on her body and summer moonlight reflected in her eyes, and though I knew I was there I wouldn't see myself with her. I had never been one to picture myself naked in the presence of one after whom I lusted.

"Well, I know it may not seem like it, given the side of him that you know," I explained, quick to regain my composure for the sake of her trust in me. "But as hard it is to believe, Chad was once a man, and that part of him still exists somewhere within the realms of his psyche, beyond all the drunken rage and criminal intentions. All men, regardless of whether they act like it or not, harbor the primal instinct to provide for their families, especially the females. Chad's instinct is magnified by the absence of another male to help him in his endeavor. When they don't fulfill their purpose, men feel guilty, and as opposed to women, who close themselves off automatically when guilty and beat themselves up about it, men lash out at the world and go to any lengths to deny that anything they've done is their fault. And given Chad's constant drunkenness, it's understandable, but not forgivable, why he would push you out of a car for threatening his thus far successful justification of his actions."

Alex gave me the saddest look I'd ever seen cross her face, and instantly I felt a strong urge to smash my skull with a hammer and make it cave in for forcing me to say such a thing that would turn the strongest person I knew into the most miserable as well. I had to say something to help repair the damage done by my logical mind, I decided, watching Alex cast her eyes to the floor and try once more to contain her tears.

"I know he deserves to feel guilty," I said after a moment of watching an even more painful scene than before, "but Chad's personality has to be taken into account. He's stubborn, he's hedonistic, he's a guy -- he'll do anything to convince himself nothing is his fault. People like him are really bad with any feeling except rage and lust; he can't handle anything else. I'm sorry, Alex."

The pained beauty before me looked at her knees, drawn up on the couch next to my own as I mirrored her position, cocoa in the hand away from the couch, shoulder on the very top, body slack, knees between us. I wondered briefly if our lips could meet halfway, but instantly dismissed the thought, disgusted with myself for wanting lip action with Alex still in so much pain.

"I guess it's a lost cause, then," Alex murmured, echoing my thoughts, and I snapped out of my reverie, halfway convinced that she knew what I was thinking about.

"Huh?"

"Trying to change things," she said, looking up at me and then back at the floor. "It's always gonna be the same."

I, too, cast my eyes to the floor, trying hard not to cry. Seeing her in so much pain, in arm's length where I was too scared to reach for her, made me want to rip my eyes out of my head so I wouldn't have to watch it anymore. I wanted to fall to my knees on the ground, cry my sadness away and scream at the top of my lungs how much I loved her and wanted to help her. I wanted to throw my arms around her and hold her body close to mine, to feel our hearts beat together as one, to run away from this life with her and spend eternity making her the happiest woman alive... But I knew I couldn't. I stopped biting my lip at the fantasy when I realized I was doing it.

Instead of telling her it was going to be okay, instead of tightly locking my arms around her, instead of offering her my heart on a silver platter, I sighed and put my cocoa on the coffee table, resting my head on arms, which were crossed over the back of the couch. "Alex... I really wish I knew how to help," I said in a muffled voice, looking over at her sadly. _I wish I could just squeeze all the pain out of you, kiss all your problems away..._ "I can give you my bed tonight, and I can wash your clothes for you, and I can give you breakfast and a ride to school tomorrow, but... that's it. That's all I can do. I could try to make you feel better, but we both know you're not the problem. I can help you, just... not your family."

Alex sighed and looked up at me, her tough girl front renewed. "I know. Let's just watch some TV. CSI okay?"

I smiled half-heartedly and shifted so I could see the screen. "Yeah, I love CSI."

For a while we watched the episode that introduced the empathic dominatrix Lady Heather, and after about ten minutes I heard Alex's stomach growl loudly. We both acted as if we heard nothing, but during the time leading up to the commercial I was planning what I could give Alex. I mentally dug through every morsel of food in the kitchen, searching for something quick that Alex would enjoy. It had to taste good and it had to be warm, considering Alex's current emotional and rainwashed state. It also had to be quiet so I could surprise her with it.

_Ramen? No, she's probably bored with it. Rice? No, she'll be hungry again in an hour. Hmm... I can't give her a sandwich or a salad; those are cold. We're out of soup. What else would she want? I guess I can just give her carrots and Ranch dressing for now and figure something out in the kitchen._

I got up when the commercial came on and went into the kitchen to get us a plate of baby carrots and Ranch. When I opened the fridge to put the remaining food back, my eyes fell on the butter and the perfect solution came to me: Butter pasta.

I smiled and filled a pot halfway with water and a splash of vegetable oil, grimacing as I broke the spaghetti noodles. I returned to the living room simultaneously with the show and offered Alex the plate.

"Feel like a snack?"

I could've sworn I saw her smile for a split second before she muttered a "Thanks" and returned her attention to the screen. We munched on carrots for a while, watching Grissom try so hard not to connect with Lady Heather, and after about twenty minutes I got up during the commercial to get our pasta. I divided the noodles evenly between us and put a moderate amount of butter and pepper in it. After making sure all was perfect for her, I took the food into the living room and gave one to Alex.

"Dinner is served," I said with a smile, and Alex accepted the plate and smelled it.

"Butter pasta?" she said, smiling as her eyes followed me around the back of the couch and to my seat.

"Yeah, um -- I wasn't sure what you'd want, so I had to guess. Is butter pasta okay?"

"Yeah, it's my favorite. Thanks."

I beamed. "You're welcome."

For the moment, and perhaps for the rest of our lives, that was all I could do for her. I prayed that this would make her realize she was always welcome here, no matter when or why, because she really was. I needed her to know that I would always be there for her, regardless of the circumstance, and that I would always stand up for her, even if she was wrong. I could find a way to justify absolutely anything. For her. I loved her and I always would, even if she never loved me in return.

_Oh, wait, _I thought, my forgotten hospitality breaking into my thoughts. _She probably needs a drink._

"Alex, what do you want to drink?" I asked. "Your choices are Coke and... water."

"What kind of Coke?"

"Any kind. Pretty much any carbonated soda, except the ones made by Pepsi. My mom won't allow it in the house."

Alex giggled. "Can I have a regular Coke?"

"Of course. I'll be right back."

"K."

I got up, hurried to my room for my shoes and fifty cents, and walked outside to buy my love a soda. I returned a moment later and gave a regular Coke to a confused Alex and went into the kitchen to get myself a Diet Coke. While I was up I decided to throw Alex's clothes in the dryer, then went to sit back down.

"Where'd you go?" Alex asked, taking a sip.

"The soda machine," I replied.

"You didn't have to; I could've had Diet."

"But you wanted regular. Besides, I can't take it back now; it's got your germs all over it. You might as well enjoy it." I smiled and Alex shook her head, rolling her eyes.

We spent the next couple of hours watching the night guys bust people for trying to worm their way out of crimes they would never admit to committing, and by the time we got sleepy enough to go to bed Alex seemed to be feeling considerably better, for which I was sincerely thankful. I gave her some clothes to sleep in and prepared my bed for her while she dressed in the bathroom, and when she came out I showed her where she was sleeping. Naturally, she protested and offered to sleep on the couch.

"It's your bed," she argued. "You sleep in it"

"Nonsense," I said. "You're the guest. You get the royal treatment and I get my mom's bed."

"But --"

"Good night."

I left and closed the door behind me, giving a satisfied smile when I heard her sigh and lie down. _Sweet dreams, Angel._

After a long, sleepless night, the sun proclaimed the morning's arrival loudly and clearly, and I looked out the window from my position at my mom's desk. Having given up on the idea of sleep hours ago, I flexed my fingers and stretched out my back. This Alex thing is really important, I realized, looking at the clock. It was now a quarter to six in the morning. I turned my attention to the odd arrangement of fabric and stuffing on the desk and realized I had set a personal best: An entire fuzzy red teddy bear, complete with torn black clothes and evil-looking yellow eyes, finished in six hours. Wow.

"Sarah? What are you doing up?"

I looked up at my mom, who had just walked in the door in her security guard uniform. Her boots were dusty from the gravel at the construction site and she looked tired and irritable.

"Um... Alex is sleeping in my room," I said quietly so I wouldn't wake her. "Things were kind of nuts last night at her house. I couldn't sleep, I've been up thinking."

"And crying," my mom said, putting her empty lunch box and orange vest at the foot of her bed. "What's wrong? Did she see your headboard?"

"She didn't have to," I replied, "someone at school found out and accidentally told her a few weeks ago. I'm just gonna miss her."

My mom frowned at the floor, emptying her pockets onto her end table. "Well, you can't make someone love you."

"I know," I said, "I'm not trying to; I want her to be happy. It just sucks."

"I understand that, kiddo, but you've gotta let it go and move on sometime. I'm glad you're not trying to make her be with you, but don't obsess over her."

"I won't; I think I've found a pretty healthy balance." I smiled to let my mom know I was just joking and I'd be fine, and then I said good night and went downstairs to start cooking breakfast. It occurred to me once again that I didn't know what Alex would want, and I tried to think of something neutral that most people would like. I came up with pancakes and, after debating for a moment, bacon. I cleaned the kitchen up a bit before cooking so it would be perfect for Alex, and around half past six I started cooking pancakes for two and bacon for one. I tried my best to get as much grease off of it as possible and not burn the pancakes, and by the time I was done making our plates and setting out condiments it seemed good enough. I poured two glasses of orange juice, checked the time (7:02), got the clothes out of the dryer, and went upstairs to wake Alex.

I didn't notice until I had to tell myself to be quiet that I had been singing "The Special Two" by Missy Higgins. I decided that cooking for her probably brought a temporary end to the depressive phase of my bipolarity, since I no longer seemed afraid to break the silence. It was, in a way, a comforting thought. I enjoyed my false hope. It left me in the dark, which was really the only light in my sad, delusional little world.

I sighed and quietly opened the door to my room, my grief forgotten when I realized that I would get to touch her. I had a chance to lay my frail, scarred hand on deity, if only for a moment. I tiptoed up to her, trying not to run, and knelt down to reach for her shoulder.

As soon as I touched her I knew I would never want to touch another shoulder again. My fingertips grew warm on her soft, beautiful skin and I felt a perfect white light spread through my entire body that made me want to cry, but from pain or joy I would never know.

All too soon, though, before I was ready to stop taking in her radiant beauty, her velvet skin, her intoxicating scent, and burning her image into my memory to have it to look back on when I'm old and grey and dying, remembering her exactly as she was now... she opened her eyes. I froze for an eternity that didn't seem to last long enough, trying hard to hold back my tears of unknown origin, and stood up, withdrawing my hand. "Breakfast is ready," I told her, smiling quietly, and left her clothes at the foot of the bed when I walked away. I pretended not to notice her pretending not to hear me sighing in angst; and I put on a false look of neutrality while quietly singing "Keep Holding On" by Avril Lavigne.

About halfway through the bridge, I noticed a second voice joining me that wasn't necessarily good, but in my opinion the most beautiful voice in existence. I immediately stopped, probably in mid-word, and turned to face her. "Hi," I said somewhat breathlessly. "How long have you been there?"

"A while," she replied. "What are you doing?"

"Setting up a recording," I replied. "My mom wants to watch a soccer game, but she forgot to record it, so I'm doing it for her."

I turned off the TV when I was done and went into the kitchen, and Alex followed me, stopping dead in the doorway and blinking at the table.

"Is this okay?" I asked. "I wasn't sure what you would want."

"This is fine," she said, sitting down, and I smiled and stood by the counter to wait for the toast. "Jesus, Sarah."

I beamed and gave her two of the pieces of toast that just popped up, sitting down across from her and spreading butter and grape jelly on mine. I noticed that although she was eating rather enthusiastically, she looked pensive, and my heart sank. I knew exactly what was on her mind and I really didn't want her to say it.

"Are you putting peanut butter on your pancakes?" she asked anticlimactically, and I looked up at her. That kind of threw me.

"Leave me alone; it makes it taste like Reese's."

She laughed a little and started thinking again. I wanted the next thing out of her mouth to be another humorous observation, but no such luck.

"Sarah... I know you want this to happen," she began, but I interrupted her.

"Alex, I know," I said. "Believe me, I get it. You want to be with Paige, and far be it from me to stand in your way. I'm just glad I got you out of your house for one night."

"So it doesn't bother you at all?"

"Honestly, Alex, as long as you're happy, I don't care who you're with. Now eat your food or it'll get cold."

Alex giggled again. "Yes, Mommie Dearest."

"What did I tell you about those wire hangers, young lady!"

We shared a laugh, and I , feeling secure in the fact that I had successfully lightened the mood, went back to my breakfast, and Alex went back to hers. To all appearances I was content, and we both knew I was miserable, but only I knew the extent to which I was torn apart by the knowledge that Alex was leaving. Nevertheless, we finished our meal in a relatively comfortable silence, each absorbed in our own thoughts concerning the day to come. I was unsure of Alex's exact musings, but I had it on pretty good authority that they revolved around Paige and how best to win her back. Dammit.

Meanwhile, mine were waging wars against eachother. A big strong part of me loudly proclaimed that she wanted Alex for herself, regardless of what Alex herself wanted; and instantly about six times my love and conscience rose up against the bully, backing her into a corner and threateningly holding several weapons of varying degrees of deadliness at all the most vulnerable parts of her body. Though their eyes plainly screamed infatuation and desire at the highest levels, they still resisted such temptations for Alex's sake. Unlike the possessive bully, their love was empowerment and helped strengthen their resolve to refuse to back down. Love was above succumbing to the desire to feed my own passionately burning fire of lust, in lieu of letting Alex feed hers. When it was put that way, even to the bully, whose sociopathic tendencies drove her to do whatever it took to stay alive and satisfied... it just sounded wrong. Even the beast in me agreed. As soon as this logic was laid down as law, the beast died, leaving only my heart to question. My heart answered me by telling me, in Alex's voice, "It's okay."

"Sarah?" the real Alex said. "Sarah, come on."

I snapped out of my contemplative reverie and looked up at the absolute goddess standing over me. As always, the sight of her beautiful face took my breath away. I never could get used to that, no matter how many hours I devoted solely to staring at her and taking in every detail of her beautiful strength.

_God, I love you..._

"Sarah, it's almost 7:30, we've gotta go!"

"Oh, shit..."

I rinsed off our plates, gave Alex a forgotten toothbrush from the medicine cabinet, and made quick work of brushing my teeth. We hurried to my car and as soon as we got to school, there was Paige, on the front steps of Degrassi.

I had never in my entire life had such a hard time keeping myself under control. For a moment we both just looked at her, then at eachother, and no matter how hard I tried to hide it, Alex could still see the hurt in my eyes.

"Alex, go. Don't make a big deal out of it. We both know you want to be with her."

Then something happened that I never dreamed would happen: Alex smiled at me and gave me a hug.

"You're a good friend, Sarah."

I smiled sadly, almost afraid to return the hug. "You too."

She let go and got out of the car, and as I watched her walk away I prayed for half a second that she would go around Paige, that she would completely blow off that definition of a mean girl and come back to me... but no, that wasn't right. I didn't want that. Alex saw something in Paige that I never would, and I had to respect that. Alex liked her for reasons totally foreign to me. Alex could be happy now. That was all that mattered. Even though I wanted her for myself, I still hoped our conversation from last night would help keep her in the right mindset to swallow her pride and go back to Paige, where we both knew she belonged.

I sighed heavily, collecting my bag, and walked off to the girls' room. On the way I caught sight of Alex and Paige deep in conversation. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but it looked like it was going well. I smiled half-heartedly in spite of myself and continued on my way.

Enclosed within the walls of the bathroom stall, I took a black hooded jacket out of my backpack, one I had conveniently forgotten to return to Alex last night, and hugged it close to me, absorbing the scent and letting a single tear escape my eye. I reached for my pocket knife and flipped out the blade, fully prepared to cut, but I stopped.

_I know you want me to be stronger, Alex,_ I thought, and decisively closed the knife. _By this time tomorrow, you'll have your wish._


End file.
